


A Pair of Thick, Woolen Socks

by MickeySLee



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Canon Compliant, Fluff and Angst, Hogwarts Era, Hogwarts First Year, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Mirror of Erised, Pre-War, Sad, Socks, Young Albus Dumbledore, Young Gellert Grindelwald, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-27 00:06:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18187277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MickeySLee/pseuds/MickeySLee
Summary: “What do you see when you look in the Mirror [of Erised]?” A very young Harry Potter asked Albus Dumbledore.There was always more to Dumbledore's answers than the simplest explanation.A quick glance into one explanation for what Dumbledore might have seen and the story behind it.





	A Pair of Thick, Woolen Socks

**Author's Note:**

> Something has always bothered me, since the first time I read it when I was seven, about Dumbledore’s answer when Harry asked what Dumbledore saw in the mirror of Erised. Harry thinks that Dumbledore wasn’t entirely truthful, and that’s very in character for him. By that, I mean that he did see socks, but more to it than just that. This is more or less confirmed by J.K. Rowling, but we still don’t know the whole story. This story is an attempt to get close to one explanation, and, to be honest, it doesn’t tell the full story either.
> 
> As of the time of posting, there is some discrepancy over what Dumbledore sees in the mirror. In an interview, JK Rowling said that Dumbledore could see his family reunited in the mirror, but I still think there’s more to it than that. There’s lots of theories, including the socks being symbolism, to his family being the only ones who would care enough to make sure he was comfortable and given him a pair. Yet, in the Fantastic Beasts movie, he clearly sees himself with Grindelwald. Maybe he sees both, or some combination, or he sees different things at different points, or the makers of FBAWTFTTCOG just ignored JK Rowling for movie-making purposes; I think his desires manifest in different ways, as we see when it’s Dumbledore and Grindelwald young, then just Grindelwald at his current age. Desire is a complicated phenomenon, I think there’s a lot more to it than the simplest explanation. I wonder if he sees Grindelwald when he’s young and lonely, constantly thinking about him as he’s gaining power and frequently in the news, then when he’s old and realizing he wants more than just a relationship he sees a Grindelwald is there in addition to his family. I know this story is whimsical, and most likely has no basis in canon reality. It’s written to be a romance, and although there’s implications between the lines, there isn’t much emphasis on family. 
> 
> As we get more details, there may come a day when this story will be entirely disproven. I think I’ll still like it, however. I for one am overjoyed by JK Rowling’s announcement that they had a relationship. With everything we already know about Dumbledore’s feelings, their story seems a little less tragic knowing they at least had some time together. I’ve purposefully left out backstory so it will apply longer (after we do find out how they got together and all those little details, this scene—which I doubt they’ll show anything similar—should still be relevant.)

Bright green eyes stared up at him, a question in them, which he had learned was normal for Harry Potter. Albus stole himself, Harry was hesitating, debating if he should ask. It must be a ‘big’ question, like why his parents died, or why Voldemort wanted to kill him. This was the first time they had been able to really talk, he wouldn’t be surprised if there would be more questions after this one.

 

“Professor Dumbledore. Can I ask you something?" Ah, a very safe way to get what you want. The Sorting Hat had confirmed that Harry would have made a good Slytherin, as Albus had suspected.

  
  
"Obviously, you've just done so," Albus smiled, to try and show Harry that it was alright. He worried that the young man would be hesitant around him, and Albus wanted the boy to trust him. "You may ask me one more thing, however."

 

“What do you see when you look in the mirror?”

 

Instead of reassuring him, the question caused his heart to clench. Luckily, he had years and years of acting and pretending to fall back on, so he did not react as he looked into the mirror.

 

***

 

“Who…who is that?” Albus asked the Bathilda, pointing to the young man who was walking down the lane towards them, turning his head and catching sight of them.

 

“Oh, that’s my nephew. He’s going to be staying with me for a while, but he’s about your age. I’ll introduce you.” She waved at him, calling him over.

 

***

 

“Gellert. Grindelwald.” The boy, man, shook his hand with the cockiest smile Albus had ever seen, before Bathilda could make introductions. He was gorgeous. His eyes were entrancing, Albus had never seen eyes quite like his. It wasn’t just the vastly different shades, there was _something_ so deep inside them. Albus felt as if he was staring into the depths of his very soul.

 

“Albus. Dumbledore.” The boy winked, the blue eye, and Albus felt his stomach clench.

 

***

 

“Merlin.” Albus whispered. He was staring up at his ceiling, but not really seeing it or anything else.

 

“I know,” Gellert said, next to him. Albus turned his head to look at him; he was on his side, head propped up on his bent hand, staring down at Albus with a fond, yet cocky expression. It was his default.

 

Albus extended the arm closest to him in invitation. After a quick eyebrow raise, and a hesitant pause, Gellert got closer to him, laying down, with his head on Albus’ s shoulder. Albus met his eyes, using his other hand to stroke the side of his face.

 

Gellert’s eyes moved down, then back up, for once looking unsure. His hand in turn touched Albus’s cheek, his body scooting closer. Their legs moved up and down slowly, caressing. Then—

 

“What the fuck? Why are your feet so damn cold?” Gellert jumped up, and the moment broke.

 

“Sorry, I’ve always had cold feet, and they’re always cold no matter what I do. I’m not sure why,” Albus said, blushing, hoping that Gellert would accept that and lie back down with him. Instead, he got on all fours at the end of the bed, then raised his hand towards his suitcase in the corner. It was a fantastic view, but the sight sent fear up his spine. Was that seriously a deal breaker for him? So, what if he had literal cold feet—that didn’t mean he had _cold feet_. “Look, don’t leave, we don’t have to cuddle, we can just talk—”

 

“I’m not leaving, stupid.” Gellert said, having summoned a clothed bundle into his hand, he turned, raising an eyebrow and smirking to signal that he knew that Albus had been staring. “Like this position? We can try it next.”

 

Albus smiled. “I like your constant use of wandless magic. I find it incredibly alluring.” He purred. Gellert smirk widened and he sat where he was, at the end of the bed.

 

“I find yours just as sexy,” Gellert said, raising the sheets off of Albus’s feet. They flinched and tried to chase the warmth of the covers. “Uh-uh.” Gellert admonished and grabbed hold of one.

 

“What are you doing?” Albus asked as Gellert raised his foot up. He kept going until his foot was at his mouth, and—oh.

 

Gellert kissed his ankle, gauging his reaction, then trailed kissed over to his sole, then he _licked_ from heel to toe. Albus felt a rush of confusing arousal at his actions. There shouldn’t be anything sexy about what he was doing, but it was. Gellert kissed each toe, then sucked the big one in his mouth. Albus gasped then moaned when he continued. “Don’t worry, I used a cleaning charm.” Gellert whispered. That helped Albus relax significantly. He was impressed that Gellert could do a cleaning charm without the tingling, or perhaps he had done it when Albus had been distracted.

 

He relaxed further when he realized that Gellert seemed to be enjoying himself as much as Albus was. He supposed he didn’t need to know _why_ something felt good if it just did.

 

With one final kiss, Gellert lowered his foot, then grabbed the small ball of clothing. Albus realized it was a pair of socks.

 

“Now what are you doing?” He asked, and his voice was a little breathless.

 

“When will you learn to trust me?” Gellert asked with yet another smirk. He slid on the most comfortable socks Albus had ever felt on the foot he had just worshipped, then moved on to hold the other foot. He awarded it the same licks, kisses and sucks he had the other, and Albus threw his head back, feeling his blood rushing. “You know Durmstrang is freezing, constantly. I have nothing but warm socks. These will keep even your feet warm.” Gellert told him quietly between kisses. “This way, we can cuddle—or something else—as much as you want, and you won’t be cold.”

 

Albus lost a part of himself as Gellert pleasured him, looking up again to watch as Gellert encased his foot in warmth. They were the best socks he had ever felt, and the warmth radiating from them spread to the rest of him. He wasn’t entirely sure it was just the socks.

 

Their eyes met again as Gellert lowered his foot. If Albus had been warm before, he was on fire seeing the desire in Gellert’s mismatched eyes. Gellert held one foot in each of his hands, massaging them, infusing warmth and what Albus suspected was magic into them. Gellert pulled the thin sheet off Albus, then crawled back up his body, hovering just over him as he lined their bodies up. “Ready for another round?” He whispered.

 

Albus threw himself at his lover. They slammed into each other, and Gellert was flipped so he was under Albus.

 

Gellert laughed at first but was quickly silenced as Albus forced him into a kiss, their passion rising and matching perfectly. For once, he didn’t have cold feet.

 

***

 

Albus sighed angrily as his wand clattered to the floor, rolling under his bed. He got on his hands and knees, rooting around with his hand trying to find it. Under normal circumstances, he would have simply summoned it wandlessly, but since the… _incident_ he hadn’t felt like using magic of any kind. Still, he would at some point. He was a wizard, he couldn’t just live the rest of his life without casting a spell. He needed his wand.

 

Instead of feeling the slick feel of the wand, he felt something soft, thick, like a small pillow. He grabbed it in confusion, trying to remember what article of clothing he had apparently lost. He had no memory of owning anything _fuzzy_.

 

When he pulled out one of the socks that had been abandoned, a rush of memories and feelings invaded him, briefly taking him over. That morning, he had no idea of what would come later that day. Albus had taken off his socks, left them on the floor, and hurriedly got dressed, unable to wait to see Gellert, who had stayed with his Aunt the night before. They must have been shoved under the bed later that night, when Albus had practically destroyed his room in his anger, throwing and kicking anything not nailed down, which was everything.

 

He squeezed the sock, blaming it for everything that had gone wrong.

 

He dived back under the bed, resurfacing gripping his wand in one hand and both socks in the other. For the first time since that day, he cast a spell, igniting the tip of his wand.

 

He held the socks close to the flame, shaking, furious. As the fabric of the cloth got closer and closer, he found his anger suddenly and completely replaced with deep, dark, utter sadness.

 

The flame went out, the wand clattering to the floor again as he gripped the socks closer to his chest. He too collapsed to the floor, against the bed that no longer felt like just his, and sobbed.

 

***

 

“I?” Albus said, trying to infuse his voice with some happiness as he stared with melancholy at the blue and black eyes of the man he would never stop loving, trapped behind a mirror with the person he would rather be. The person that had his family standing around him, just as Harry had seen. He briefly met the eyes of his family, all of who smiled at him, an impossible occurrence in reality.

 

Gellert winked at him, and Albus tore his eyes away from that face, looking his own mirror’s image, who was busy staring at his lover lovingly. “I see myself, holding a pair of thick, woolen socks.”

 

***

 

It was the only gift Gellert had ever given him, the only physical proof he had of their love. It was true what he told Harry, people only gave him books as gifts now-a-days, thinking they knew what he wanted, needed. No one had ever been able to understand him as well as Gellert had. He hadn’t seen Gellert in so long. He couldn’t blame Harry, but the question had brought forth the emotions he generally tried to avoid feeling.

 

He made it back to his office and bedchamber in a fog, going through the motions of preparing for bed without consciously thinking about them. It was a cold December night, a night that warranted a fire.

 

As he stood directly in front of it, staring at the flames, he couldn’t help but feel as if he wasn’t warm. A familiar cold had settled into his chest, and he knew there was only one thing that could even begin to comfort him.

 

Albus stood in front of his wardrobe, opening the doors before placing his hand on the magically sealed drawer. He pulled out the box locked behind it, carrying it over to his bed. He laid in it, sitting up against the headboard before he opened the lid.

 

It wasn’t the first time he had seen them since he had stuffed them as deeply as he could in his old wardrobe, but the memories and pain and _burning_ seeing them brought forth was just as fresh as that day.

 

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before taking them out, and putting them on reverently. Instantly, just as they had that first time his lover had slid them on, warmth spread up him, heating him all the way inside. It made no sense that they still brought so much warmth to him. If there was any magic in them, it should have worn off by now. Albus didn't question it, however. As he had learned, he didn't need to know why something felt good, as long as it did.

 

He looked at those fuzzy socks, held in each hand, letting himself remember for just a moment.

 

As he laid down, he wiped away the tears that had gathered on his cheeks, wishing it was another hand that was washing them away.

 

The snow fell outside, clean and white and cold, unaware of his feelings or needs.

 

He rubbed his feet together, as _they_ had done, countless times, though not nearly enough, and closed his eyes, picturing happier times. Yes, this was definitely a night for his most precious possessions and the comfort they brought: his old, thick, woolen socks.

**Author's Note:**

> I think I figured something out about the Fantastic Beasts movie. You know how Dumbledore was wearing a suit, and everyone was like, why isn’t he wearing robes? In the sixth book, he wears a suit to go see Tom Riddle at the orphanage. I always assumed that he was just wearing muggle clothes to go into the muggle world, but why would he do that in a velvet suit that attracted plenty of attention? He may as well have worn robes. He’s 57 at that point in time, and twice in the series he says he reads muggle publications, as well as being a unique proponent for muggle rights, which imply that he would know how to appropriately dress around other muggles. But what if he didn’t do anything special for his outing? What if suits are just what he wore at that time? This velvet suit was between the stylish three-piece gray suit and his flamboyant robes, what if we’re being shown how his tastes developed? What if it wasn’t a mistake on the movie’s part, so much as an intentional choice? My guess is Dumbledore chose to wear muggle clothing, either because he simply liked it, as a rebellion of something, or in silent support of muggles. What do you think about my theory?
> 
> Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed.


End file.
